


It was meant to be romantic.

by skinnylittlered



Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston Fandom
Genre: Crack, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, POV Third Person, POV Third Person Limited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinnylittlered/pseuds/skinnylittlered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everything one find romantic in movies works great in real life. And you would think an actor would know that best...</p>
            </blockquote>





	It was meant to be romantic.

As a pretty average human being casting a shadow on this Earth, the first thing that went through my mind when having been brusquely awakened by my intercom at roughly three o’clock in the morning was that I was terribly and utterly fucked because, let me tell you, if there is one thing that television programs have thought me so far is that there’s no way in hell for an unaccompanied chick to survive a demonic attack, especially when her attire consists of panties and a camisole. No question of it what-so-ever, which is exactly why, doing what any other sensible person would do, I grabbed the exact assets the given situation would require and ventured in the tenebrous (un)known of my flat, trying to avoid furniture pieces and heart attacks.

Save for the unreasonably frightening and obnoxiously repetitive ringtone of the door phone, the place was dead quiet – that is a pretty bad analogy, is it not – and that very fact had naturally made it so much worse, basically forcing me to hear my own thoughts which were not pretty in the slightest. That, of course, and the adrenaline rush surging my senses to their utmost potential, causing those little white spots in my peripheral vision to seem to be something not quite as inoffensive as just plain, white spots.

Only a few inches apart from the intercom did I realise that the scene was peculiarly quiet. It had probably stopped ringing sometime earlier, but having been so caught up in that damn vortex of panicking and picking the most effective demon-repelling incantations I must have completely missed it, and only then, that the blasted thing desisted, only then could I clear-headedly assess the ongoing state of both my physical and psychological condition. It was but me, a woman of twenty-five, in the middle of a deserted room in my own damn house, drenched in cold sweat, trembling and most certainly looking like lunatic clutching my grandmother’s rosary to my chest. Especially as I don’t even believe in God. And I was just about to laugh at my own stupidity, not only because it was funny per se, but because I mostly needed the relief one gets from laughter and finding themselves to be tremendously, childishly naïve, when the knocks started.

What the ever loving fuck.

My initial instinct was guiding me outside, through the window, regardless of the fact that there’s a little over then flights’ worth of a fall to the ground, and I am fairly positive that if it weren’t for my paralytic state I wouldn’t have given it a second thought in hopes I wouldn’t get decapitated at the actual contact with the concrete. Instead of that, however, I spent an estimative grand total of sixty seconds debating which one, the pantry or the closet, would be the wisest place to hide in ( the pantry by all means – that’s where all the food is! ) and comforting myself with the thought that it would get much worse in a very short time span, prediction on which I was forced into congratulating myself earlier than ideal, when I heard the door being unlocked.

The following events I can’t quite vividly remember, but Tom tells me that there were shrieking, holy water and speaking in tongues involved and that it wasn’t coming from him.

He also profusely apologized for not calling prior to coming for sex and cuddles in the middle of the night.


End file.
